Just A Fwubbing Thing
by The Forgotten Nobody
Summary: "It's...it's been said that fwubbings have a gift. That they can identify a matched pair. S-soul mates if you will." Newt/Percival.
1. Chapter 1

It's said that fwubbings are harmless, docile creatures that wouldn't even hurt a fly. Or, at least, that's what Newt Scamander says and though he still believes that the man doesn't always have the best judgement when it comes to his precious beasts, Percival is more inclined to believe the magizoologist in this instant.

It would just be nice if they didn't multiply quicker than the rabbits they resembled.

"Fwubbings don't need to mate you see," Newt says, a breathless smile on his face as he accompanies Percival in catching the damned beasts. "They simply decide when they need to repopulate and copy themselves!"

"If they continue in this manner then we're going to have an epidemic on our hands," Percival grunts as he puts on an extra burst of speed, spying a fwubbing scampering beneath a bush, shaking its behind in a way that Percival _knows_ is meant to taunt him. He nearly knocks over a bemused No-Maj in his haste, offering her a brief apology as he regains his footing. It's lucky for them that fwubbings simply look like larger, longer eared rabbits and so the general non-magical public just think they're a slightly odd breed of bunny.

"They'll be fine once they're all together," Newt informs him once he's caught up. "I-It's only because they're so spread out that they're multiplying at such a high rate. Their instincts are telling them they need to replenish the colony. Of course, you can domesticate them to curb that particular habit!"

"That's wonderful but it doesn't help us catch them!" Percival lunges to the ground, not caring that the dirt is ruining his suit or that the thorns from the bush stab his face and hands, and is rewarded with the fluffy creature in his grasp, staring mournfully at him. Percival kneels on the grass, holding the fwubbins up to his face critically. The creature's nose twitches, long, fluffy ears brushing against his hands.

"Oh dear, it looks like it's going to-"

The fwubbing sneezes and with a popping noise, there are now two fwubbings where there had previously been one. The new baby appears on the ground beside Percival's knees and immediately scampers away, too quick for Percival to catch.

"…multiply."

Percival takes a deep breath, lest his internal screaming attempt to become external. "Here. You take it." He shoves the fwubbing in Newt's direction and in the brief few seconds where they both have a hold on the creature, it abruptly turns pink and emits a high pitched squeak. If it hadn't been for Newt, who is now staring wide eyed at the fwubbing, his mouth agape, Percival would have dropped the animal.

"What in the world was that?!" He exclaims.

"Um, I…," Newt becomes shiftier than normal, his blue eyes darting everywhere apart from Percival's face which is slightly disheartening because Percival had thought they were past this stage. "Nothing. N-nothing at all! Just a fwubbing thing." Newt distracts himself from Percival by rubbing the now brown-furred and content fwubbing on the belly. "You like that hmm? Well, you'll like it even more in my suitcase. I have a special fwubbing play area where you'll make lots of new friends."

Cradling the fwubbing like one would an infant, Newt bends down and encourages the creature to hop into his suitcase. Newt sticks his head in after it, letting out a squeaky call, before lifting it back up and closing the case with a snap. When he stand, he still avoids looking at Percival.

"I think I see another one!" He says and quickly runs ahead, leaving a puzzled Percival to jog after him.

It doesn't escape his notice how Newt is very careful to ensure they both don't touch another again.

* * *

"It has been," Percival starts, slamming his drained tumbler on the desk, "a long day."

"Um, yes. Yes it has," Newt agrees, tugging nervously on the collar of his coat. When Percival had offered Newt a nightcap to celebrate the capture of over a 100 fwubbings he'd hoped to sort out whatever had gone on but to little avail. The other man continues to refuse to look Percival in the eye and has been stuttering over his words far more than normal. It had to be related to the strange fwubbing incident but Percival doesn't have a clue how.

"I b-believe I best be off now. Good night's sleep and all that."

Newt hastens to stand but before he can leave, Percival gently grabs him by the wrist.

"Could you at least tell me more about the fwubbings?" He asks. "We've caught enough of the blasted things that I feel I ought to be an expert on them."

Newt scratches the side of his head with his free hand. "Well, uh, you know most of it already. Related to the rabbit family; very peaceful. They won't escape again if that's what you're w-worried about. Once they find a safe home they tend to stay there for life."

"And the changing colour?" Percival asks with a raised eyebrow.

Interestingly, a blush rises from Newt's neck to his freckled cheeks. "As I said, n-nothing more than a fwubbing thing. I really ought to-"

"What kind of fwubbing thing?" Percival pushes, though he instantly chastises himself. This is not an interrogation, even if there is a reason the rest of his colleagues call him the Interrogator, capital necessary.

"It's, I, um," Newt ends up so flustered that Percival takes pity on him.

"If it truly makes you uncomfortable then you don't have to say," he relents, letting go of Newt's wrist. He actually happens to rather like the odd man, perhaps more than he ought to, and he doesn't want to risk pushing him away over such a matter.

"Well, it's…" Newt bites his lips, pupils flickering back and forth between the door and Percival before he finally flops back into his chair, fiddling his fingers and staring intently at a point just beyond Percival's ear.

"It's...it's been said that fwubbings have a gift. It's not much more than a legend really and it's only, um, been documented a couple of times so I wasn't sure whether to believe it. They say that fwubbings can, can identify a matched pair. S-soul mates if you will."

The blush spreads further, coating Newt in a shade of red that Percival would note looks adorable were it not for the fact that his mind is attempting to process what he just heard. Soul mates? Such an idea is ridiculous, inconceivable even but…

"And so I assume when these…soul mates touch a fwubbing at the same time, it turns pink?" He asks in a tone far more calm than he feels inside.

"Y-yes, essentially, but of course it could be absolute nonsense so I wouldn't take it seriously. Not that I thought you w-would but-"

"Newt," Percival interrupts, holding out a palm pacifyingly. "What are your thoughts on the matter?"

"M-mine?" Newt squeaks.

"Do you think it's true?"

"I, I mean there the possibility I suppose but how can people really know if it's true? It might mean something entirely different…"

"How…how would you feel if it were true?" Percival asks cautiously, actively focusing on keeping his restless fingers still.

Newt bites his lip, already chewed enough that Percival can see frayed skin. "H-how would you feel?"

Percival accepts the switch-around and is unable to prevent his toe tapping lightly on the floor. Not much can get Percival anxious but this…this has his heart racing in ways he is unaccustomed to and he has to clear his throat before speaking.

"I've never really believed the notion of soul-mates myself," he starts, not missing the slight resigned dip in Newt's shoulders. "However, concerning you…I find myself interested."

Newt's head snaps upwards, his eyes connecting with Percival's for the first time since that morning. In them he can see uncertainty, fear…and hope. Percival wouldn't be surprised if the same emotions are being reflected back to Newt.

"Interested?" Newt repeats, his voice lowering a notch.

"While I was intending to reveal my…affections at a later date," _Or whenever he finally, if ever, gathered the courage,_ "I think you are fascinating Newt and I would like the opportunity to get to know you better. Perhaps take you out."

"A…a date?" Newt clarifies shyly and Percival gives a sharp nod, hands clutching his pants tightly.

"If you would like."

"I would like that very much," Newt says, a small smile lighting his face and Percival feels the tension drain out of him, his own lips quirking upwards.

"I'm glad," he says softly. "But you were right. We really ought to get some sleep." He has no doubt that when Newt returns to his little apartment he'll be down tending to his creatures before taking care of the dark smudges under his eyes but Percival himself will need all the rest he can get. He knows that courting Newt will be similar to courting his beasts as well and he wants to make sure he's prepared for such an event.

"Here." Percival stands and holds out his hand to a still blushing Newt, helping the lithe man to his feet. "I'll see you tomorrow? Perhaps we could go out for dinner?"

Newt nods, a little quick and shaky, and Percival can't help himself. He slowly leans forward and presses a soft kiss against Newt's chiselled cheek. In response, Newt makes a quiet, high pitched noise (much like a fwubbing) and Percival steps back, his hand trailing along the other man's before releasing it.

"Goodnight Percival," Newt says and Percival takes it as a high compliment that the magizoologist has the same wondrous expression on his face as he does when he'd found a new beast.

"Goodnight Newt."

Percival watches Newt leave with a small, fond smile on his face. He may not really believe in soul mates but should they exist then he couldn't really ask for a better partner.

He also thinks he has a fwubbing to apologise to.


	2. Chapter 2

_This wasn't meant to have a second chapter but I wanted to write a date scene and I thought it would follow on fairly nicely from the previous chapter._

* * *

Percival has run into burning buildings, been in situations where the chance of survival was slim to none, even faced the formidable Grindelwald himself and yet he can't quite remember feeling as nervous as he does right then, wearing his finest suit and sat at a table in a charming Italian restaurant waiting for his date (who also might happen to be his soulmate).

As Percival works longer hours than Newt he had suggested they meet at the restaurant rather than Percival hurry to pick him up. However, he's quickly regretting this decision as it's nearing 7.50 and they had agreed on 7.30. To make matters worse, the waitress keeps giving him sympathetic glances as if she has a reason to pity him which she certainly does not because everything is fine. Newt wouldn't have got cold-feet or changed his mind. Surely not.

It gets to 8 and Percival has ordered a fire whisky to go with the bottle of wine sat on the table, hoping to soothe his frayed nerves. It also helps stall for time; the waitress is slowly getting past the point of sympathetic. When Percival is close to calling it quits and leaving, either to head over to Newt's or return home to drown his sorrows properly, said man comes stumbling into the restaurant, nearly falling over his feet in his haste. He practically skids to the table and Percival's first thought is that he's a mess, the second that at least Newt had always intended to come.

Beneath Newt's trademark blue coat is a white button up covered with an intricately designed burgundy waist coat and trousers that certainly fit in all the correct places. Of course, the dried, half-brushed off mud and mussed up golden curls ruin the image slightly but Percival is too relieved to be bothered.

"T-terribly sorry I'm late. There was an incident with the jarvey's and salamanders that I had to sort out. They were frightening the bowtruckles. I, I really am sorry."

Percival isn't surprised it has something to do with his beasts and finds he isn't even slightly annoyed. Newt in this state is rather an endearing picture.

"That's alright," he says honestly. "Though, I think you missed a spot."

Percival brings out his wand and mutters a scourgify that has the grime gone in an instant. The other customers, who had all been staring unashamedly since Newt's dramatic entrance, begin to return to their meals. Once Newt has sat down, a shy smile on his face, the waitress glides over, a quill and small roll of parchment floating beside her.

"Can I get you gents anything?" She asks with thinly veiled amusement.

"I already got us wine," Percival says, gesturing to the opened bottle on the table. "Unless you'd rather have something else?"

"P-perhaps some water as well?" Newt asks and the waitress nods, going off to fetch a jug and glasses. Percival nudges the menu closer towards Newt.

"I've heard the lasagna here is to die for," he recommends and his lips twitch in amusement when Newt's face disappears behind the large menu as he studies the food intently.

"Here you go. Do you fella's know what you want to eat?" Before Percival can speak, an odd expression momentarily forms on the waitress's face. She shakes her head, red-lipped grin returning and he decides not to question it. This is not a night for work.

"Lasagna please," he answers and his heart, the ridiculous thing it is, flutters when Newt asks for the same. With one last look behind her, at which Percival's hackles rise slightly as she's clearly looking at Newt, the waitress disappears and Percival turns his attention back to the man. He takes a second to appreciate how handsome Newt looks bathed in the candlelight of the restaurant, the warm light making his face glow. It's nice, finally allowing himself to have these thoughts.

"So, apart from the earlier mishap, did you have a good day?" Percival asks and to his delight, Newt comes to life, his expression and movements much more animated as he tells Percival all about the birth of a new crup named Winnie (which perhaps goes into more detail than Percival would have liked before dinner) and explains more about the fight which had caused him to be late. Near the end of his story, the climax of the spectacular battle, Newt abruptly snaps his mouth shut and his cheeks flame.

"Sorry. I-I've been talking a bit too long. I've been told it can be annoying," he apologizes and Percival instantly wants to hunt those down who made Newt ashamed to share his adoration of his beasts. While Percival may not share the same interest in them, just watching Newt speak about something he so clearly loves is captivating to him.

"No, it's absolutely fine," he responds vehemently. "Honestly, it's fascinating. You have no idea the number of dates I've been on that have just had me do all the talking."

Though his face remains flushed, Newt is clearly pleased. "You, um, you date much?"

"Not too often and rarely through my own pursuit. Occasionally my co-workers try and set me up with their friends when they think I've been cooped up in my office too long. I find it's just easiest to agree when that happens." His long suffering sigh has Newt letting out a quiet chuckle. "What about you?"

"Oh, uh. No, I don't really date. Too, too busy. Though, there was a girl at Hogwarts," Newt replies, his expression turning sour. Rather than go into those gritty details, Percival changes the subject.

"Then I'm certainly glad you agreed to come here with me." Taking a risk, Percival slides his hand to rest over Newt's and is treated to a bashful grin though Percival focus diverts, convinced he just saw something-

"Two lasagnas!"

The waitress places their meals on the table and Percival is effectively distracted by the delicious aroma of tomatoes and herbs that greet his nose. He takes the first bite and moans appreciatively. He's definitely glad that he'd taken Goldstein's recommendation. It truly is to die for and it doesn't hurt that at the sound of his moans, Newt had bitten his lips, pupils dilating ever so slightly.

He takes another bite and briefly closes his eyes, savoring the taste. However, when he opens them and goes back for more, he hesitates. He could swear there's less food than there had been just seconds ago and the missing chunk does not look like something cut with a knife...more like a-

A foot connects with Percival's shin.

"Ow! Did…did you just kick me?"

Newt looks mortified. "Sorry! N-nervous tick. I didn't mean to."

More than a bit confused, Percival shakes his head. "…It's fine. Try to aim away next time, I'm not as indestructible as they say," he teases, glad when Newt laughs, even if it does sound slightly strained. Poor man must be more anxious than Percival thought. Keeping a closer eye on Newt and his food, Percival continues to eat and it's as he's chewing the final few bites that a crash sounds. His twists his head behind him and sees that a waiter has fallen to the floor, shards of broken plates surrounding him. A couple of the waitresses help clear up the mess, all of them looking incredibly puzzled.

"I think I need the bathroom," Newt quickly says and bemusedly, Percival watches him hurry away, narrowly dodging the hovering, repaired plates. Percival turns back to finish his meal, freezing as he watches a piece of Newt's lasagna float upwards in the air. It pops out of existence.

Just as Percival thinks to cast a spell, he is all of a sudden face to face with an alarmed demiguise who enters a brief staring competition with Percival before leaping from Newt's chair onto the next table. That is all that's needed for havoc to ensue.

The demiguise is flinging itself from table to table, dodging spells from alarmed customers and staff and upon feeling something slither along his shoe, Percival looks down to see a small occamy wind itself around his ankle. Before he can begin to shake it off, he hears the door open and sees not a guest, but a diricawl casually waddle inside. The bird-like creature scans the room and once it spies Percival, it lets out a loud caw and apparates, appearing right before him to peck him in a spot that has his eyes watering and body crumpling in on itself.

While Percival tries to fend off more attacks from the vicious beast Newt comes flying out of the kitchen door (Percival doesn't even want to know what he was doing in there), his arms outstretched and expression determined. The diricawl manages to get his hand just as he's sidetracked by the sight of a niffler gleefully scurrying away from the magizoologist. The thieving creature barges past Percival and Newt nearly crashes into him. Even though the diricawl is still latched onto his fingers, Percival manages to catch the other man whose face is pale and horrified.

"I didn't bring them here!" He cries over the sound of screaming customers.

"I believe you," Percival assures him, wincing as the diricawl finally lets go. "But we ought to get them out of here before the Aurors are…" Percival trails off as the door barges open and in come Goldstein and Ramay. Fortunately, Goldstein has Newt's case and it's with a group effort that they manage to collect the escaped beasts with little injury (apart from Percival's abused hand and groin). Percival had been stunned at just how much cutlery the little niffler could store.

Once they're all caught, Newt and Percival are kicked out of the restaurant and banned. Rightly so, he supposes, but Newt looks terribly upset. Goldstein gives her friend a sympathetic hug before she leaves to sort out the paper work.

Ramay just stares at Percival like he's gone mad before he too apparates away.

"I apologise," Newt says quietly, eyes downcast to his feet. "This was a t-truly awful date."

"Was it?" Percival presses a finger to Newt's chin and gently tilts his head upwards. "Because while I could have done without the diricawl, I thought it was hilarious."

Percival begins laughing, the madness of the situation catching up to him, and Newt bears the same expression Ramay had just worn.

"But…but how?" He stammers and Percival's laughs die down.

"I've never had such an interesting date," Percival explains. Seeing Newt still doesn't look convinced, he says, "Let's go into your case."

"You…want to go into my case?" Newt repeats, dumbfounded. Percival nods and after going to a more discreet location, they head inside. This isn't the first time Percival has been inside the magical suitcase but it still takes his breath away, the sheer complexity of it all, the range of habitats Newt has created for his beasts. It's incredible, much like the man who invented it.

"I knew when I asked you to give us a shot that I wasn't just considering a relationship with you, but your creatures as well," Percival begins as they wander around. When they pass the sulking niffler Percival gives it a few pats on the head to which it snorts crossly at him. Newt still looks worried and so Percival takes his hand, stroking his thumb against his skin. "And I want you to know that while I might find them a menace on occasion they're a part of you, a part I am completely willing to get to know."

They pass a poffle of puffskeins which emit a symphony of humming as they bounce around the pair. Newt stops to croon at them and this only makes them louder and start jumping on top of each other to get closer. Percival's eyes soften at the sight.

"I don't want you to worry about hiding them from me," he continues. They carry on, stopping beside a grassy area where a burrow sits at the bottom of a small hill. A baby fwubbing ventures out and Percival slowly reaches down to pick it up, perching the little animal in the crook of his elbow. He looks at Newt expectantly. "Go on, touch it."

"Her," Newt corrects gently but he does and Percival almost feels reassured himself when the fwubbing trills and turns cotton candy pink.

"Like you said, it might all be garbage but I'm willing to give this a real good go and I want you to be comfortable, to not hide yourself or be ashamed. Though, I would great appreciate it if you remembered to close the latch of your case properly."

Newt snorts, his countenance much lighter than before.

"Thank you Percival," he says, daring to rest his forehead against Percival's. "You…you're very different to other people. Good different."

Bored, the fwubbing springs down from Percival's arms, her job done. With her now gone, Percival is able to rest his hands lightly on Newt's waist.

"May I kiss you?" The magizoologist whispers and his throat dry, Percival can only nod and close the remaining distance between them.

However, rather touching tender lips, Percival suddenly feels as though he's been pricked with a splinter and he jolts backwards to find he hasn't kissed Newt, but a bowtruckle.

"Pickett!" Newt exclaims and the stick creature cheerfully floats down to the ground using a tissue, something sounding suspiciously like laughter coming from him. Newt folds his arms irritably. "I knew I shouldn't have mentioned the date to them," he huffs. "They really can be naughty, protective things when they want to be and-"

As much as Percival would listen to Newt speak for hours about his beasts, he finds that kissing the man is an equally, if not more, enjoyable pastime.

* * *

 _A few little notes: It was Pickett the waitress was staring out and the reason the beasts all managed to get to the restaurant was because in his haste Newt_ _hadn't shut his case properly and they wanted to see the human their caretaker wouldn't stop talking about. Also, Newt wasn't going to kick the demiguise, just nudge him out from under the table, however he missed and Percival got the full impact._

 _I hope you liked it!_


	3. Chapter 3

_If Newt is Mummy then it only makes sense that Percival becomes Daddy. [This has a character from Not Your Conventional Family and is a sort of AU of the last scene. It is not necessary to read it however.]_

* * *

Three months into their relationship, Percival no longer worries when Newt is late for their dates. In fact, he's taken to telling Newt an earlier time in order to cut down on the length of time he waits. So, yes, Percival is used to Newt getting held up but when it gets to 45 minutes after the time Percival he himself had shown up he knows there's something wrong.

Fortunately, it had only been a picnic in the park Percival had planned and so he can easily pack up the blanket and food and leave. After finding a suitably dark alley, Percival apparates to Newt's flat. He knocks on the door and though there's no answer, that doesn't mean Newt isn't in and he uses the key the other man had offered to him a month after making their relationship 'official'. There had been mutterings from his colleagues, who had heard about this little event through the horrendous gossip mill, about it being too soon but as Newt had pointed out, he was often in his case and therefore wouldn't always hear the door even if he was in.

And well, if Newt had also accompanied the gift of the key with a solemn clasping of hands and him lovingly saying that he trusted Percival implicitly, that was nobody's business.

"Newt?" Percival calls out and when he receives no answer, he goes hunting for the briefcase, finding it in the bedroom by the end of the bed.

He unlatches the case and sticks his head inside. "Newt?" He tries again and worryingly, he's met with silence once more. It could be nothing, Newt might just be a bit further in one of the habitats, but as he's climbing down Dougal comes scampering up to him, not wasting any time before he grabs Percival's hand and begins dragging the wizard along.

While Dougal has always been one of the creatures fondest of him, he automatically knows that something is wrong.

His fears are confirmed when they reach the tropical habitat. Percival rushes forward, Dougal all but forgotten as he slides through the gaggle of creatures that surround a feverish Newt. He flinches slightly when his elbow grazes Aria's leg as he goes to brush the back of his hand against Newt's glistening forehead. It's at that moment that he realises Newt is lying in a shining white hammock. Probably best not to question.

"Newt? Are you okay hun?" He asks softly.

Newt's nose crinkles and his eyes blearily open, a glaze covering them. He squints at Percival for a few seconds before panic springs on his face.

"The picnic! I-I'm sorry. I…where am I?"

Newt looks past Percival to all his beasts and then down to his new bed. He strokes his fingers admiringly along the silken material.

"Very nicely done Aria," he murmurs and Percival is fairly certain the acromantula preens.

"You had us all worried," she says gravely and still more beasts are appearing, all of them curious about what has happened to their caretaker. "You fell when feeding the occamies."

"You fainted?" Percival says with concern. Then, last afternoon's conversation jumps to mind. "Wait a second…I thought you said you weren't going creature hunting? A quiet night in?"

Newt has the grace to wince. "I wasn't planning on it but I thought I'd go for a walk and during it I found a grindylow and it was in pain…I-I couldn't just leave it…" And oh dear, his bottom lip is beginning to jut out.

"Of course you couldn't," Percival sighs. "C'mon, let's get you to bed." He prepares to carry Newt out of the hammock but before he can even begin to lift, he's suddenly assaulted by an assortment of beasts. Bowtruckles hang of his fingers, the mooncalves butt against his knees and even Amadeus the niffler is holding onto his sleeve, outraged. Slightly stunned by the reaction, he slowly lets go of Newt.

"Ah yes…they can be a tad protective," Newt says affectionately, patting one of the mooncalves on the head and Percival would consider leaving Newt with his beasts but a coughing fit follows swiftly, one that has the man recoiling in pain. It hardens his resolve to play the bad Auror.

"You need a proper bed," Percival says firmly. "While the hammock certainly was good thinking you need pillows and blankets…and soup."

"You could bring those down here," Newt wheedles, the pout full force, but Percival is not to be deterred, not when he sees how weak the coughing has left the man.

"I'm taking him to bed, to get better," he warns the creatures. He reaches out for Newt once more, thankfully receiving less protest and those that continue to revolt are chastised by Aria who, it seems, has taken an authoritative role.

"Thank you," he tells the acromantula, just managing to look her in all eight eyes. He starts to carry Newt away, the man snuffling pitifully against his chest. The stairs prove to be a slight issue but help quickly comes in the form of a swooping evil who stays pressed against Percival's back in order to keep him balanced.

It's a particularly peeved Newt that Percival tucks into bed a few moments later but Percival doesn't get to listen to his cajoling for much longer for after he's had some chicken soup, and while he's in the midst of asking Percival to take care of his beasts, he drops off into a deep slumber. Percival remains a few minutes longer, adjusting Newt slightly so he breathes easier, before he presses a kiss against the sleeping man's brow and sets about fulfilling Newt's request.

Percival might have taken to observing Newt in his 'natural habitat' so to speak but that doesn't mean he keenly watched everything Newt did. The sight of the magizoologist with his hair mussed, sleeves rolled up and a gleam in his eye he only gets with his creatures was a rather distracting sight.

Deciding to start easy, Percival begins with the mooncalves, a job he'd been delegated more than once due to its ease. Though a few of them stare at him with betrayal, over-all they're happy to eat the treats he throws to them and some even reward him with affectionate brushes of their heads against his thighs once they're done. He continues with a few more of the easier beasts, such as the fwubbings and Dougal, until he left with those that Newt purposefully tended alone.

He starts off small, heading for Amadeus who's sat in his den with his arms folded crossly. He glares at Percival when the wizard approaches.

"I know you're annoyed at me," Percival says. "But you do realise your behaviour shows you care for him a lot more than you let on?"

Amadeus briefly looks scandalised. He abruptly faces away from Percival, nose turned up scornfully.

"So you don't want dinner then?" He holds out the bowl of nibbles temptingly but Amadeus doesn't even look, stubbornly facing away from him.

"You need to eat." Percival can just imagine the look of horror on Newt's face if he found out that the niffler didn't take a bite. He casts his mind back, trying to remember how Newt gets the stubborn thing to eat when he's in a mood, but comes up blank. His wandering eyes catch a glint from the watch on his wrist and he notices the moment that the niffler spies the silver time-piece. He huffs.

"If I give this to you will you eat?" He asks, pointing to the watch.

Amadeus looks interested. He inches forward then thrusts out a hand.

"Not until you start eating," Percival compromises. "I'm a man of my word. You'll get the watch once you've eaten."

Amadeus narrows his eyes untrustingly and Percival stares back, willing the niffler to just eat the damn food. The resulting staring match lasts a far too long but thankfully Amadeus eventually snatches some of the food and shoves it in his mouth. Percival puts the bowl inside the den and the Niffler digs his head in, chomping down on the treats. Half-way through, he pauses and gives Percival an expectant look.

"Yes, fine," the wizard sighs. "Here." He unclasps the watch and the niffler inspects it happily before tossing it in his pouch and resuming eating. Satisfied, Percival goes to the next creature – Desmond the diricawl, or as Percival so fondly thinks of him, _Demon._

Newt might have made the diricawl apologise for its behaviour during their first date but in no way does that mean it had been sincere.

He earns three new marks on his hand for trying to clean its feathers.

Tending to the rest of the beasts goes by with varying success. The salamanders, though not particularly viscous, burn him twice after a mishap with some water and he remembers far too late that you are meant to bow before approaching a Hippogriff. However, he manages to get to all of them (it seems he picked something up after all while ogling Newt) and Percival is rather proud of himself when he heads back to the flat. He's ready to tell Newt the good news when he emerges to find the man staring at him wide-eyed, one leg swung over the side of the bed and his hand grasping the bedside table.

Percival sighs fondly.

"Do you not trust me to take care of your beasts?" He questions playfully as he places Newt's leg back under the covers.

"It's not, not so much you dear but I know they can be a handful and I wouldn't expect you to know how to take care of them. I-I don't know what I was thinking, asking that of you."

"It wasn't easy," Percival admits, "but you don't have to worry. I fed and checked over them all. They were fine, mostly, just a bit worried about their mummy."

Newt smiles, relieved, and presses a kiss against Percival's wrist, stalling Percival's hand where it had been stroking along Newt's cheek. "Well, does this make you daddy now?"

Though the comment was made in jest and Percival rolls his eyes, the thought secretly warms him ever so slightly. He'd never considered himself a family man but perhaps he could make an exception.

* * *

 _This was supposed to be a one-shot. I can't stop. Send help._


	4. Chapter 4

It starts with a joking, throwaway comment.

"Well, we _are_ soulmates."

It's only after Newt, who's now accepted the whole soulmate theory with his own brand of nonchalance, adds on a serious, "it's true," that both Goldstein sisters sit speechless.

And to think, dinner had been going so nicely up to that point.

Now, Queenie's lemon cake is left forgotten as Tina speaks up.

"What do you mean? How-soulmates are just fiction, aren't they?"

Percival almost mourns the Tina of the past, who would never have dared question her superior. He can feel a barrage coming and braces himself accordingly.

Thankfully, it's Newt who answers. He's sitting up straighter now, looking almost as uncomfortable as Percival feels.

"Remember the fwubbing incident? It was, oh, I believe four months ago now, yes. Well, you see, fwubbings are interesting creatures. Legend says they can identify a fated pair, soulmates, through having both parties touching one. Should they indeed be soulmates then the fwubbing will turn pink and emit and high pitched noise. It's not common knowledge and it's probably best for it to stay that way. Should it get out the entire population would be on the hunt for the gentle things."

"Did you not trust us enough to mention it?" Tina asks, hurt evident in her voice and Queenie puts a calming hand on her arm.

"It's not like that Teen. You just didn't think it was too important, did you boys?" Queenie says and though her smile is kind, her eyes tell a different story. Percival doesn't know the other Goldstein sister all that well yet but if he were to guess, he'd say there was a sad longing hidden there.

"Uh, well, no. I suppose we didn't. We would have got together regardless…I think." Newt scratches his nose and glances towards Percival who just nods. The secrecy hadn't really been intentional, it had just been silently agreed that it was between them and would have raised more questions than it was worth. Of course, he _had_ thought that that Newt might have perhaps mentioned it to his friends but, well, they couldn't change the past.

"And anyway," Percival adds gruffly. "We couldn't be sure the legend wasn't just fanciful nonsense."

"It must be nice though," Queenie says softly. "Believing it is. I used to dream myself that they existed…"

She trails off and Tina sighs, clasping her sister's hand in hers. A silent conversation seems to pass between them, the topic of which Percival can only presume.

He may have been trapped away during the whole Grindelwald incident but from the briefing he'd been given and the creature-focused story Newt had provided him with, he knew there had been a No-Maj travelling with them. A No-Maj who, from what little Newt had provided on that front, had been quite close to the younger Goldstein sister.

Queenie seems to perk up then but even Percival see how false her smile is. Beside him, Newt frowns.

"So who wants dessert?"

* * *

Newt decides to come home with him after dinner and before retiring to bed they decide to share a nightcap. These moments, with Newt's back resting upon his arm, gold curls brushing his chin and a quiet peacefulness surrounding them, are some of Percival's favourite. The brandy provides a pleasant burn through him, almost as satisfying as the quiet, content noise Newt makes. Percival is so close to a light doze that he very nearly jumps when Newt speaks up.

"Remind me of the laws regarding No-Maj's knowledge of magic?"

Percival sighs before sitting upwards slightly, swiftly removing the grip sleep had on him.

"Simply put, apart from squibs there should be no knowledge. The same as it's always been."

Newt bites his lip before quietly asking, "But what if No-Maj was the soulmate of a witch?" And Percival's heart goes out to both him and Queenie.

"Assuming you're talking about fwubbings then that would require MACUSA first acknowledging this legend as truth and for it to be enough to bend the laws. And even then, should it all go in our favour, the secret of the fwubbings would be out. There would be no to guarantee their protection."

Newt huffs, his bony cheek digging into Percival's chest. "It's not fair."

"No," Percival agrees despondently, "It's not. What was this No-Maj's name anyhow?"

"Jacob Kowalski. He owns a bakery shop now. He's a good man."

"From what I've heard, he sure is."

As they finish the last of their drinks and prepare for bed, a plan begins to form in the back of Percival's mind. It's a long-shot, perhaps not even worth bothering with, but Percival Graves is nothing but determined once he's got his mind on something.

* * *

Queenie doesn't go by the bakery often, she knows the risk would be too high, but even so she's classed as somewhat of a regular. With every visit she leaves with a smile on her face but a growing hole in her heart. She knows how Jacob thinks of her, _still_ thinks of her, and it hurts knowing she can never act on it again.

"Hello Queenie!" Jacob greets her cheerfully. She knows she should have given him a fake name, that she never should have returned once she'd given it, but she couldn't help herself.

"Hiya Jacob," Queenie replies. She floats around, browsing as Jacob serves another customer and once they leave and it's just the two of them alone, Jacob tentatively asks, "Would you like to try a new sample? I need some customers to test it for me."

"Oh I'd love to." Queenie walks over to the counter and Jacob goes into the kitchen for a brief moment before coming out with a tray full of tiny pastries. When Queenie moves forward to get a closer look she sees that they're in the form of little cups, the centre filled with gooey chocolate.

"As you can tell, it's inspired by hot chocolate, one of the best I've ever had," Jacob says, though his brow furrows a bit as he adds, "Can't for the life of me remember where though! Go on, have a bite."

With her heart clenching painfully, Queenie tries to keep her smile on as she takes one of the treats, hearing just how anxious Jacob is over her opinion. As sweet chocolate and flaky pastry touches her tongue, she can't hold back a moan of delight. Just like everything else the man makes, it tastes absolutely divine. Queenie may be able to make desserts with a wave of her wand but it's Jacob who is the true wizard in the kitchen. When alone in the apartment, she thinks about what it could have been like, her and Jacob working in the kitchen together, creating beautiful dishes for just the two of them and then settling in front of the fire afterwards, full and content.

The bell hanging above the door rings and Queenie, confused at the lack of another presence in her mind, turns but there's no one there. She assumes it to be the wind until she hears a mental cry of _rabbit!_ before Jacob exclaims the word verbally.

"Oh my!" Queenie looks down and sees the rabbit, a bit bigger than she'd expected, bounce around and though she's concerned at just _how_ the creature got in there, she knows the more important problem to deal with is getting it out of the pristine bakery.

Even though her skirt makes it slightly difficult, she catches the rabbit just before it gets behind the counter. Jacob's hands are there seconds later.

And then the rabbit turns pink, a squeal escaping it.

It's a good job the animal is close to the ground as both Queenie and Jacob's hands fly back in shock. Their wide eyes catch each other and then it's like a damn has broken because the memories that are swiftly returning to Jacob are flooding into her mind. The rabbit…the _fwubbing_ is forgotten as Queenie's hand travels to her mouth. Jacob is frozen, his own mouth agape as he struggles to process everything that's suddenly returned to him.

"…Queenie?" His eyes are full of recognition and she knows what this means. She can't do this to Jacob. She has to stay away now, for good. She has to leave…

"I can't," Queenie gasps. "I'm sorry, I-"

"Actually Queenie, you can."

Queenie spins around to find Percival Graves there, hands in his pocket. His mind has always been hidden to her and even Newt, who's holding the fwubbing with a small, almost mischievous, grin is going through all the animals in his care to avoid Queenie knowing what the heck is going on.

"Newt? And…the bad guy?"

"Not the bad guy Jacob," Newt replies softly. "My partner. The _real_ Percival Graves."

"The real…I think I need to sit down."

Considering he has stayed crouched this whole time, sitting down just means Jacob collapses to the floor with a thump.

"Allow me to explain," Percival says. "It turns out that Mr. Kowalski isn't just the simple No-Maj we all thought. Far back in his lineage, is a witch. She gave birth to a squib and if you keep going a few decades, you get to Mr. Kowalski. I did have to confirm there was still some magic in his blood and I proposed a test. To see if exposure to magic could restore his memories. And well, it certainly seems to have done so."

"What are you saying Percival?" Queenie asks, not daring to get her hopes up.

"The law states that a No-Maj may not be trusted with the knowledge of, or given access to, the Magical world. Mr. Kowalski, however, is not your average No-Maj. It may be very, very dormant within him, and he may not be able to utilise magic, but there is some magical blood residing within him. Enough, at the very least, for him to be given the privilege of keeping his memories."

"You mean he can…we can…"

"Yes Queenie," Newt says and now his mind is like an open book, conversations between him and Percival playing, the joy when the President agreed his discovery meant that should Jacob regain his memories, he'd be allowed to keep them.

"Queenie, does this mean what I think it means? Jeez, I can't believe it. It was all true! I wasn't crazy!"

"No hunny, you weren't." Queenie drops down to her knees in front of Jacob and it's not until his hand caresses her cheeks that she realises there are tears dripping down them. "And you're not gonna think that any more. We can…you can remember." She doesn't want to presume, because she after everything that's happened she wouldn't blame him for wanting to leave but then, his thoughts…

"I know you know what I'm thinking Queenie," Jacob says in a choked up voice. "I'd like to be with you, if you'll have me."

Queenie can't keep the smile off her face, the largest, most genuine smile she's had in a long time. She lets out a wet laugh and takes Jacob's hand in hers.

"I'd love that."

It's too soon to let Jacob know what the pink 'rabbit' meant but one day, when they're settled in front of that fire, she'll tell him.

* * *

 _After this, Percival says to Newt, 'you are so lucky that worked' because while Percival found out the whole background stuff, Newt was the one who wanted to make the reveal all dramatic with the fwubbing XD_

 _Also I'm of the opinion the President would probably be like, 'eh, this is technically allowed and I do sort of owe them a favour for catching Grindelwald.'_

 _I'd love to know your thoughts!_


End file.
